


Mutuality

by WetSammyWinchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Humor, Gen, Post-Episode: s14e15 Peace of Mind, Screw Destiny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-14 12:15:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18476029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WetSammyWinchester/pseuds/WetSammyWinchester
Summary: When Rowena wants to meet, Sam takes the chance to get away from the Bunker and escape the bad memories if even for a day.





	Mutuality

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a gift for [amicablyevil](https://amicablyevil.livejournal.com/profile) and their pairing of Sam & Rowena and prompt of "fine is a relative term" for 2019 Springfling.
> 
> Thanks to [doilycoffin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/doilycoffin/pseuds/doilycoffin) for the beta and encouragement!

Sam follows the waiter across the open terrace. The man is skilled, balancing a large glass of red wine and two cocktails on his tray as he dodges between tables with snowy white linens and patrons finishing their twelve-dollar club sandwiches and three-dollar sweet teas. 

Not surprising that Rowena wanted to meet at the Four Seasons. The St Louis arch gleams in the sun with the muddy Mississippi winding next to it, and the open terrace here is packed with rich businessmen and tourists soaking up the unusually warm spring day.

He sees her first. Rowena gleams in her own way with her red hair curls loose around her face. But out here in the open, she seems pale and small. 

“Samuel!”

Rowena waves to him as the waiter sets down her wine, something dark red with legs on the side of the glass like an expensive Cabernet. Sam pulls out the chair across from her and the waiter turns to him with a well-practiced smile and lays down a drink coaster. “What can I get the gentleman to drink?”

“A beer.” 

The waiter hovers. “We have thirty craft beers if you’d like to see the menu—“

“Whatever you have on tap. Thanks.” At Sam’s dismissal, the waiter nods and he and his tray dodge through the maze of tables back to the bar.

“It’s on me,” Rowena says with an overly sweet smile. “Or really, it’s on the podiatrist I met last night in the bar.”

“Back to your old tricks, huh?” he comments without much heat. 

“Better old tricks than no tricks.” She sips from her wine. “Surprised the mother hen let you out of the Bunker by yourself.”

“Dean knows I needed to take a break and get out for a bit.”

She grimaces. “Don’t expect me to be going back to that tomb anytime soon no matter what the emergency. Speaking of which, how is Jack?”

“Fine,” he responds automatically.

“Fine, yes.” She shivers despite the sunlight. “We’re all fine, aren’t we?”

The waiter shows back up with the beer and checks with Rowena on her wine and her bright public face fades as the man scoots out of their sight again.

“Except the thing is,” she says softly so only Sam can hear, “I’m not fine - my nightmares about Lucifer are now nightmares about Michael.”

“They’re both gone.”

“Aye, I know.” She spins the glass of wine by the stem. “Thing is, Sam, I’ve killed a lot of people in my day, I’ve had others kill for me, and I’m not proud of it. But this? This was different. I had to sit back and watch him do it with my hands and I couldn’t do a thing about it. Changes a person.”

Sam thinks of Kevin in the Bunker library and his fingers resting on Kevin’s face and the glowing embers where his eyes used to be. Another reason, another memory, of death.

“I know how that feels.”

“I know. I’ll be able to move on, eventually, I always do, but you, Samuel? Not a surprise that Dean is concerned about you right now.”

Sam doesn’t respond but instead studies the city skyline, a mix of old brick buildings and a few modern skyscrapers baking in an unusual burst of warm weather. Dean, who complains about Sam talking with others about their situation, now appears to be Rowena’s bff.

“Why did you do it?” he asks. “You and Dean… the two people I never imagined would say yes.” 

Rowena purses her lips and turns away to study the river and the sluggish stream of tourists wandering the walk below. Sam takes another sip of beer in the silence, waiting until she is ready to answer.

“Do you think any of these people with their fanny packs and sunscreen would have survived possession by Michael? What about those hunters from another world? Could they have been strong enough?” She picks up her wine glass and meets Sam’s eyes as she takes another sip. “The answer is probably not that different from Dean’s. It seemed like the best solution at the time. I thought I was strong enough.”

He nods but doesn’t respond. They’ve all thought that they could be strong enough to deal with the impossible situations they faced.

“And another thing, between you and me, Death is a great big liar.” The woman at the table next to them stops her bite of salad halfway to her mouth at Rowena’s outburst so she lowers her voice again. “All this talk of destiny and prophecy. Yet Dean didn’t need to climb in that box to get rid of Michael. And I trusted Billie’s prophecy about the two of us - I let Michael in because of it, I took comfort in the thought that only you would kill me - and what was that worth? Nothing.”

Rowena’s face cracks open on that last word, and it reminds him of that day in the Impala, another conversation about dark, twisted things held in the bright sunlight, and he reaches across the table to squeeze her hand.

“Screw destiny. That’s our motto.”

She pulls her hand back to wipe at the angry tears that never really fell and her face lights up with a bright smile that is aimed over Sam’s shoulder. “Charles!”

A tall man with salt and pepper hair and broad shoulders dressed in a perfectly pressed yellow button-down walks up and gives Sam no more than a quick glance. “I couldn’t wait any longer to see you, my dear.”

“Aye, me as well. We were just finishing up here.”

She slides an envelope across the table at Sam as she stands and Sam raises his eyebrows.

“The reason I called you. I won’t be needing it anymore.”

He nods at the two of them as they walk away together with Rowena’s arm tucked into Charles’ and reaches for the envelope. He pulls out what appears to be a thick vellum sheet with red writing but drops it on the table because it isn’t paper he was holding in his hand but human flesh.

The missing page of The Book of The Damned.

A gift she called it but Sam’s no fool. He knows that she likely memorized or copied it but he’ll take her gesture. He tucks it carefully back into the envelope. It’s a seven-hour drive back to the Bunker, back to the problems with Jack. He should get on the road but he sits back in his chair and closes his eyes, feeling the warmth on his face. 

“Can I get you another beer?” Their waiter is back with his tray and attentive smile.

“Sure, another beer would be great.”


End file.
